


The Three Temptations of Simon Lauchlan

by ZaliaChimera



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Canonical Character Death, Catholic, Catholic Guilt, F/M, Forgiveness, Mission: s02m39 The Final Countdown, Mission: s02m40 Something Good 08, Redemption, Religious Guilt, Spoilers, Temptation, What-If, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 03:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1250956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaliaChimera/pseuds/ZaliaChimera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon is not a strong man and he has never been a hero. People like him get only what they deserve. Spoilers for S2M39 and S2M40</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Three Temptations of Simon Lauchlan

**Author's Note:**

> I did mention the massive spoilers for the end of Season 2, yeah?

“Come on you bugger.” Simon fiddles with the wire again, just getting static for a while. He keeps jiggling it, hoping there's just a loose connection and not anything actually broken. It takes a few moments and then-

[Runner Three? Runner Three! Simon!]

“Yes!” he slips his headset back on only to hear Janine practically screaming in his ear. “Jenny?”

[Simon? What happened? Why weren't you answering?] There's something sharp in her voice that he's not used to. He'd almost say it was panic but... no, things have been weird recently.

“Sorry Janine. One of the wires came loose or summat. Only just got it back in now. Didn't want to stop in the middle of the zombie wasteland to fix it, y'know? I'm at Jamie's.”

[Right. You see, Mr. Yao! I told you. I _knew_ it was just a malfunction. I knew it.]

[I know Janine, but that doesn't-]

Sam's voice, and Simon's pretty sure that he isn't supposed to have heard that. They're on edge and it's putting _him_ on edge. “Can one of you tell me what's going on?”

[We just received word from Runner Eight, Simon. She had inf-]

[There's another spy.] it's Sam who gives it bluntly for once, a sharpness to his words that Simon's not used to hearing from him.

“Bloody hell. What is it? Some kind of convention?”

[Of course you'd think it was something to joke about,] Sam mutters bitterly.

[They've been ordered to poison the water supply, Simon,] Janine says quickly.

Simon's breath comes sharp and shocked at that, and he exhales slowly, trying to just take that in. Poison the water. Christ, they can survive zom attacks and even rocket launchers but that would... “Who is it then? I thought it was Eight but...”

[Simon,] Janine says quietly and a slow trickle of dread works its way down his spine.

“You think it's me,” he says, comprehension dawning, a slow horror, and somehow the hurt makes it's way into his words, strangling them.

[No, Simon, we-]

[It's you or Five,] Sam breaks in sullenly.

“Aye,” Simon says, voice twisted with anger and fear, “and we all know who you'll choose.”

[Five's never given me a reason not to trust them!]

“And I _have_?” Simon snaps back. “Christ. I'm not a spy, Jenny.”

[That's just what a spy _would_ say!] Sam mutters.  
“Oh right. So glad you're gonna be judge, jury and bloody executioner!”

[Stop!] Janine's voice cuts through the airwaves and they both fall silent. [Whether we like it or not, you and Five are the most likely culprits, Simon.] She continues before he can say a word to object. [We need you to head back to Abel. We've sent Ed out with a bike to meet you since we couldn't get in touch. Runner Five will... where _is_ runner Five?]

[Uh... they're passing through one of those dark spots. Shouldn't be long. Might even meet up with you on the way back.]

“And one of us is a spy. Is that really such a good idea? Might take the other one hostage.”

[See! Why would that even come to mind if you weren't thinking about it?] Sam snaps.

Simon is silent for a moment, wishing that Sam was there to see the look of incredulity on his face. “Have you been paying attention at _all_ during the past six months, Sam?” he asks. “And why would I tell you if I was planning to do it?”

[That- it's- you might be plotting some sort of Xanatos Gambit!]

“I don't even know what that means. You've been watching too many movies again.”

[I have-]

[Mr. Yao,] Janine interrupts, her voice taut with anger.

[What?]

[Is that really where Runner Five _should_ be heading?]

[Uh...] There is a frantic shuffling of papers. [Five.] Sam's voice, fainter now he's not talking directly to Simon. [Five, you must've got turned around in the woods. You need to bear left to bring you back to the road. No... I said left! The other left.] There's a thread of uncertainty in Sam's voice now, and Simon gets a chill run right through him. [They must not be able to hear. Maybe the headset was damaged or... or the dark area is blocking radio signals still.]

[Yes, perhaps,] Janine says sceptically. [I'm sending Ed to intercept. Simon...]

Simon pushes himself up to his feet, stretching out a little. “I'm on my way.”

[It's _fine_ Janine,] he hears Sam say. [Five will come back. You'll see.]

Simon would feel more sympathetic if it hadn't been him that Sam was betting against.

“What's going on?” Jamie asks when he heads towards the door. “You only just got here.”

Simon pauses for a moment, head bowed. He could lie, say it's Abel business, which it sort of is, but Jamie's got a stake in this too. Archie... “There's another spy.”

“What? Who?” Jamie's expression is grim, eyes dark and dangerous.

“Well, according to all sources it's either Five or... or me,” he says, trying for a sardonic smirk and failing miserably. “I guess the question is, do you trust me?”

Jamie gives him a hard look, and for a moment, Simon thinks maybe this is it. He's fit, sure, and fast and no slouch when he's got a baseball bat, but Jamie's got height and muscle on him and he's got a right vicious edge when he's protecting his kids.

“Get going,” Jamie says after a moment, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I swear though, if I find out it is you, better hope I never catch you.”

Simon nods solemnly. “Understood. And thanks,” he adds, his words heartfelt. God knows no-one has any reason to trust a person like him. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised by Sam's suspicion.

That doesn't actually make it hurt any less though.

He's out of the door at a run, bearing gradually towards Abel. He could go faster, really push himself to get back quickly, but he has the horrible suspicion that he'll need his energy later.

He's a couple of miles away, almost to New Canton, when Janine's voice breaks through on his headset, urgent but controlled. [Simon. Three. We need you to head back out. Five is-]

[Five's heading back towards Van Ark's base,] Sam says and he sounds shaken, worse even than when they were facing down an army of mind controlled zoms with heavy weaponry. [They... they shot Ed,] Sam adds and Simon's heart sinks right to his stomach.

“God, is he...?”

[Arm wound,] Janine says. [Took him off his bike. We've asked Jamie to take him back to the fire station for now but you...]

“On it,” he says, dragging in a breath and starting to turn, looping 'round back the way he'd come. “Which way am I heading?”

Janine gives him the directions and he adjusts for that, heading up towards the woods and skirting around the edge of them.

[They're... oh god, Janine. Five's gonna be right in Paula and Eight's path.]

“What the hell is going on with Eight?” Simon asks sourly. “Thought she was a traitor too but you're talking like we can trust her.”

There's silence for a moment and then Janine breaks it, her voice oddly soft. [She was working for the Major, Simon,] she says. [She's been working to bring Van Ark down all along.]

“She _killed_ the Major, Janine!” he replies harshly. “She broke your bloody arm! Am I missing something here?” He can't quite bite back the anger quickly enough for her not to catch it.

[Yes,] Janine says, her voice tight and strained, [but Major de Santa left a message, a recording explaining everything.]

“Explaining what?”

[They had to convince Van Ark,] Janine replies. [They had to make him trust Sara. They knew that he would check that the Major was really dead. It was the only way.]

“Kind of pointless now since he had Five right in the middle of it all.”

[We- we don't know for sure it's Five,] Sam interrupts and he sounds on the edge of panic and close to tears. He sounds _young_.

[Nonetheless,] Janine says firmly, and thank god at least one of them's good in a crisis. Him and Sam would just bicker. [By now, Van Ark knows that Sara is on our side. He must have decided that stopping her and Paula escaping is more important than keeping Five hidden now that we know there's another spy.]

“I'm not cut out for this, Jenny,” Simon says, stumbling a little on the uneven ground. “I'm not a spy. I'm just a Runner. Trying to survive.” And this is so much bigger than anything he'd ever bargained for.

[I understand,] Janine says quietly. [None of you should have been dragged into this. If after this you wish to move on, find another settlement then I- I understand. But please... _run_.]

He takes a deep breath, holding it for a moment. “Are you kidding?” he asks, forcing a wild grin onto his face and maybe if he smiles enough, laughs enough, burns brightly enough, it'll be true. “This is the most fun I've had in years!”

[Very good,] Janine says, giving that little laugh of hers that he worked so hard to hear more often, [I have an idea.]

\----------

Just for the record, and to prove that he is completely unbiased, Janine's plan _sucks_. Oh sure, this tone device is supposed to control fast zombies, but you've got to get their attention first and Simon's long and successful career as a runner has mainly hinged on not provoking the undead any more than strictly necessary. And now? Now he has a trail of them behind him, twenty at least and just hopes that they've got those tones right and that the batteries don't run out or else... well, he really doesn't want to die.

[I think I see Five! Hurry!] Sam says.

“What? Do you think I'm dawdling out here Sam?”

[He's right, Simon,] Janine says. [Five is going to meet up with Runner Eight soon. We can't let that happen.]

“I dunno, Eight's pretty handy in a fight.” 

There's a long silence and Simon groans, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. “Oh god, what is it?”

[Nothing,] Janine says quickly, [just keep going. If you shift the dial to this frequency they should start to move to your command.] She reels off a sequence and what do you know? It works. The zombies fall into line, moving perfectly in sync, like an army.

Hell that's creepy.

[Another kilometre,] Sam says. [Five is... yeah, heading right towards Van Ark's base.] His voice is strained but there's no time to stop and help. Simon doubts that anything would help.

Janine feeds him codes as he approaches that have the dead moving to cut off Five, circling around them. Simon draws his gun for good measure. Maybe Five'll think he's been bluffing about being an awful shot. “You're surrounded Five!”

Five slows to a halt when they realise the truth and turns to face him. Their expression is dark and unreadable. “Come on, Five,” Simon says. “Give it up. Why'd you do it?”

The note of betrayal in his voice surprises even him, but hell, he'd liked Five! Run with them. Spilled his guts to them about stuff he hasn't even told Janine.

[Simon!] Janine's voice comes in sharp over the headset but that's the only warning he gets before there's a click of a gun very very close to his head. 

“I think you should put down the gun, Runner Three.”

Shit.

“Alright there, Eight,” he says, the jovial tone not hiding his apprehension one bit. “Nice to know you're not actually a treacherous bitch trying to kill us all.”

Despite everything else that's going on, he hears Janine sigh and can well imagine the expression she's got right now. It's actually kind of reassuring.

“I'm not sure I can say the same for you,” Eight replies coolly.

It pricks at something dark and angry inside him. First Sam, now Eight, except Sara Smith is about the last person he wants to be on the wrong side of.

“It isn't me!” he snaps, hang tightening on the tone device while he stoops to put the gun down on the ground. The device is more valuable anyway. If it breaks he's pretty sure they'll all die. “I swear it isn't me!”

Janine's talking in his ear but it's a buzz of background noise and seems pretty distant when he's got a gun pointed at his head.

“And why should I believe that, Three?”

“He came after me with the zombies!” Five says, sounding panicked. “He's controlling them like Van Ark does!”

Okay, admittedly that does actually look pretty bad.

“I'm not... for Christ's sake! Janine told me where to find it! Seven was working on it. It's not me!” But he's starting to think that maybe he should have when everyone thinks it's him anyway. Except Janine. Not her.

[Simon. Simon!] Janine's voice comes through the headset and oh, _oh_. [Put Runner Eight on _now_.]

“Uh, Eight,” he begins a touch sheepishly, “Janine wants to talk to you. I'll even hand over the tone device if it helps keep you from shooting me 'cause you got jumpy.”

There's silence for a moment, a really long moment, the barrel of Eight's pistol pressing into his skull. “Paula,” Eight says, “get his headset and the box.”

The other woman, pale and kind of mousy looking, takes them from him, leaving him unarmed and utterly alone. Five is smirking, or maybe that's just his imagination. 

“Hello there Janine,” Eight says and Simon feels a wash of jealousy at the affection in her voice. It's irrational, he knows, but it's still there, knotted in his chest. He doesn't know what Janine says to her, but he kind of hopes that she's giving Eight a tongue lashing. He'd seen Janine after her betrayal. He doesn't ever want to see her that way again.

He feels the gun slide away from his head and he nearly sags in relief when Eight switches targets and trains it on Five instead. When she speaks again, he voice is deadly. “Well, Runner Five, it seems that I made a mistake.”

There's a bitterness to her words and Simon wonders how much Eight had confided in Five, just like he had. It's an odd sort of kinship, never mind his wariness around Eight normally.

The tone device is pressed back into his hands. “You'd better take this,” Paula says, and Simon nods, holding it close to his chest protectively. He's still not convinced it'll hold the zoms, especially not if anyone else tries to interfere.

“Now Five,” Eight says, “drop your weapons.”

Five reaches for their gun and there's a flash of anger in Eight's eyes. Must've been the one to give it to Five, so sure that they were loyal to Abel. They'd all be sure though, they'd all been so certain.

And then Eight coughs.

Fear spikes through him. Everyone knows that cough and it's hard enough to throw off Eight's aim and when Five ducks for a gap between a couple of the zoms, the shot goes wide, impacting with already dead flesh.

Simon growls in frustration and mashes the buttons of the tone box. It pushes the zoms into a sort of shambling charge which would be hilarious to watch if it weren't right in front of him. They reach out until... score! They grab Five, hold them fast and just... just _stop_.

“Three!” they call out when they realise that it's over, they can't escape. The dead are implacable and merciless and under his control. It makes him a little giddy. “Simon! You don't have to do this! You could help me! Van Ark will- he'll make us immortal! You'll never have to die! You'll never go to hell.”

Five is wild-eyed and manic and the words hit Simon like a steel bar to the gut. His hand hovers over the buttons of the tone device, mouth gone dry. He'd never have to die, never have to experience that damnation he'd been promised by his nan all those years ago.

He's almost in a daze when his grip on the tone device loosens, barely thinking at all.

A hand falls heavily on his shoulder and that snaps him out of it. He's never be sure what Eight sees on his face, but she gives him a knowing look, one that's full of sympathy as she holds out his headset. “Janine,” she says. “I think we worried her.”

He just nods numbly, and takes the headset, slipping it back on. 

“Alright Jenny,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

[Thank god,] she replies, her relief clear. [Runner Eight... Sara... I heard a gunshot. I didn't know if- well...]

“I'm fine,” he says, his gaze never leaving Five trapped by the undead. Immortality they'd offered, freedom from death. Simon swallows thickly. “I'm fine. We've got Five here.”

[Good. A squad from New Canton has been dispatched. They'll take Five into custody.]

“Right. Good. We'll wait for them and then... come home, I guess.” 

[No,] Janine says, [I have other plans for you.]

The squad arrives sooner than he expects, along with a black Land Rover they must keep in fuel just for really important stuff. They bundle Five into the back, grim faced every one of them, and then it's just him and Paula and Eight, the remaining New Canton soldiers moving off into the wood to keep watch as they sweep the area. They're close to Van Ark now. So close.

Eight's coughing again, racking ones that shake her body. He knows that there's not long left. Not when it gets that bad.

“You're infected,” Simon says, watching her warily. “I though- didn't Van Ark have a way of stopping it?”

Paula's at her side, holding Sara up as she coughs. “Van Ark destroyed the plasmapherisis machine before the treatment was completed,” she explains. “Without it the virus progresses unchecked.”

“New Canton,” Simon suggests. “They've got one! I know they have. The doc mentioned it.” There has to be something they can do!

Paula opens her mouth, but Eight shakes her head and when she speaks there's something like acceptance in her words. Simon knows he'd be screaming and crying by now if it was him. “It's alright. I knew it was too late as soon as he destroyed the equipment. Even if we got straight out, I waited too long.”

“I'm sorry,” Paula says. “If I'd realised how far he'd gone...”

“Not your fault. I knew what I was getting into when I got myself infected. Just...” She trails off, coughing again. “I don't want to die as one of them.” She glances up, meeting Simon's gaze. “Even you can't miss at this range, Three,” she says, lips pulling up in a smile that is almost entirely unhappy.

His stomach sinks. It's selfish, he knows, but he wishes she hadn't asked him. He stoops to pick up the gun and he swears it weighs more than it had earlier. He's never killed anyone before. Not anyone living at least.

Paula stays his hand. “I have a better idea.”

Simon gives her a questioning look and Sara nods. “What is it? I don't want to die getting my skull smashed in,” she says with dark humour.

“Four small cuts to the nerves leading to the brain and you're done. Almost painless. It's a clean death.” 

And it won't make him a killer and Simon feels like a monster for even thinking it.

Sara's coughing is getting worse, but she still beckons him closer. Simon moves up awkwardly, because they've never been close. She's not his Clover and she's only become _Sara_ and more than a number in the last few minutes.

“Here's a thing, Three,” she says quietly, her voice hoarse from coughing, “they never say it enough but... God forgives if you want His forgiveness.”

Simon jerks back like he's been slapped, blinking rapidly, hot tears pricking at them, for himself, for her, for this whole broken world. How does she know? He's never- never told her.

Her eyes close and sh- she's smiling as Paula gets ready, taking a knife from Sara's belt. “I hope-” she begins, her voice fading and a distant look in her eyes, “I hope that I get to see my boys again.”

Impulsively, Simon reaches out, grasping her hand and squeezing it lightly. “Sure you will,” he says, managing a pained smile. “There's always a torch for you, Eight.” He takes a breath and then words spring to his lips unbidden that he'd thought long buried inside him. “Our father who art in heaven-”

Paula does _something_. It makes Sara gasp but Simon doesn't look, just keeps his eyes on her face, the Lord's Prayer on his lips as she dies.

There is silence. 

He rests her hands on her chest and turns away, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he takes a moment to compose himself. It isn't the first death he's seen. Won't be the last either. He still feels it like a knife to the gut.

It feels like a long time before he can speak again. He pushes himself to his feet, sucking in a shaking breath. “Jenny I- What now?”

There's a long moment when all he can hear is her ragged breathing and it's Sam who answers, his voice thick with emotion. [Paula's gonna come back to Abel,] he says quietly. [But you... we need you to head over to Van Ark's base with the zombies.]

Simon swears softly. “Come on, Sam. Don't we even get time to grieve?” For Eight, for the person they'd believed Five to be.

[I'm sorry, Simon,] Janine says, her voice rough, [but it needs to be now. Now or never again. Believe me, I would love to- Sara was my friend, but the best way to honour her is to bring down Van Ark once and for all. What she injected him with, it should become active very soon but we don't know how long it will last.]

[Not to mention that with his spies gone, there's a good chance he'll just go for another all out attack or four,] Sam says.

“Right,” Simon says. God, it's all happening too fast. He can barely focus. “Right. Let's go.” He turns his attention to Paula. “You okay getting to Abel?”

“I could help you,” she replies and Simon shakes his head.

“No. If he recaptures you this time he'll-”

“He'll kill me,” Paula says sourly. “Yes. I think I can make it. I'll ask one of the guards to come with me.”

“Keep the headset,” he says numbly. “Get Sam to send runners out for you. And for Eight. You'd better make it too. You- you've got a good woman waiting for you.”

Paula smiles wanly, but even with everything that's happened today, she can't entirely hide the love and hope in her eyes. “I know. Don't you?”

He goes still for a moment, reaching up to cover the microphone. “She's not the kind of woman you get to hold onto.”

“Maybe you just need to ask her.”

“I-” He shakes his head and anyway, Sam's talking. He doesn't have time to think about that now.

[I've already sent out runners.]

“Alright,” Simon says, running a hand through his hair and tugging at it lightly. “I'm all yours Jenny.”

[Yes,] she says, and the warmth in her voice makes his breath catch, [I know.]

\----------

“Okay,” Simon says, watching the zombies as they tear at the building, making no distinction between walls and doors and windows, “this is pretty cool.”

[Yes,] Janine says over the headset, sounding breathless. [Yes, it rather is.]

Simon chuckles softly, darting between the ranks of the undead as they speed up. “Got a bit of an anarchist streak in you, Jenny?”

[Not at all!] she protests. [I merely appreciate the efficiency. And even if I had, it's obviously your bad influence.]

Sam snorts. [Keep going, Three,] he says, sounding a little more composed now. He'll probably break down later, like he had with Alice.

There's a weird noise from the speakers around the base. An ugly tone over and over. “Shit! What was-”

As he watches, the zombies go still and collapse and Simon feels the blood drain from his face.

“Abel Runner,” comes a voice from close by, a chilling voice and it doesn't take Janine's whisper in his ear to figure out who it is. “Lost and alone. Did you really believe this would work?”

The zombies rise again, keenly focused and this time there's nothing he can do to stop them. “Oh aye?” he says, turning to face the man, the monster who'd brought them so much pain, and ignores Janine's cursing in his ear. “Pretty sure that's what all bad guys say before they die horribly.”

Van Ark smirks. “You must be Runner Three. I've been told so much about you. Shall we?” he asks, gesturing towards a door that gapes dark and ominous. “I believe we have much to discuss.” 

Van Ark rests a heavy hand on his shoulder, and for the second time today there's a gun pointing at him. He's given a sharp push and he stumbles a little before falling into the march that Van Ark holds him to. “Now, there are several ways this could go,” Van Ark says, his breath warm against Simon's neck. “I could torture you to death, perhaps get a few experimental results in the process. You seem healthy enough to not die outright.”

Yeah, he doesn't like where this is going and he is gonna have bruises from where Van Ark is gripping him. Even Sam's murmured reassurances that everything will be _fine_ ring hollow.

[Just keep him busy,] Sam says. [You'll be fine. Just a few more minutes.]

They turn into a lab, one of the best preserved bits of the whole place with bright lights and medical equipment. Not hard to figure out what he does here. 

“You could be compliant,” Van Ark suggests. “I can be generous when it suits me. Allow me to do my tests with a minimum of fuss and perhaps it won't hurt too terribly much. Perhaps I'll even make sure that you don't reanimate at all when I'm done.”

His blood feels like it's filled with ice.

Van Ark closes the door and doesn't lock it but there are zombies outside. Pretty sure he can get them before Simon can escape. He crosses to a fridge and pulls out a test tube of some clear liquid. There's a figure eight on the side. “Ah, but I know about you, Runner Three,” he says, sounding amused, like a cat that just got the bloody cream. “I'm sure that we could come to a more satisfying arrangement. Do you really want to die for them when you could have so much more?”

“Nothing comes for free,” Simon says. “I'm not that dumb.”

“Wise man,” Van Ark says and does he really think that flattery works on people? “All I ask is for information. Runner Five told me that you are close with Janine de Luca. Tell me what I want to know about Abel, about what your precious Runner Eight injected me with, hand over your tone device, and well, the rewards could be significant.” 

Simon sneers in response. As if Janine would tell him anything that important just because they slept together sometimes. 

“Runner Five told me all about you,” Van Ark continues, taking a step closer. “Your fear of death, how certain you are that your soul is bound for damnation. I can make that go away. You'll never have to fear death again. Just tell me what I need to know.”

An alarm goes off, but it sounds distant. He stares down at the device that he's holding.

[Simon. You need to listen to me.]

“You'd make me immortal?”

“Yes. You seem strong enough to be worthy of living in this new world. You could help to create it.” His expression is inviting, almost fatherly, like the kind of man Simon had told other kids his dad was, even though everyone already knew he was a bastard whose dad probably didn't even know he existed.

[Simon! Listen to me! You have to attack now!]

She's speaking in his ear when he takes a step forwards, towards Van Ark.

“You promise? No more death?” Simon asks. God, not death, no ever present fear of burning. The best way to prove his nan _wrong_.

Van Ark is smiling now, an expression of welcome as he holds out his arms like a saint in a stained glass window. Janine's screaming in his ear now. He's never heard her like that. He reaches up to switch the headset off.

Another step closer.

Simon lashes out, grabbing a bottle of acid from the side and hurling it with all his might. Van Ark screams when it hits him, searing the skin of his face. Simon follows it up with more glass, unknown chemicals eating into his flesh as he howls in pain.

[Oh god! Simon!] Janine says, relief deep as the sea right through her voice. [I thought-]

“Seems to be going 'round,” Simon says dryly, edging away from the man clawing at his face and towards the door. 

[Is he...]

“It's eating through...” Van Ark is still clutching at his face.

[Yes!] Sam shouts over the headset. [Yes! He's not healing! Janine, Janine! High-five me right now! No excuses!]

[Oh I.... oh, that's rather fun!]

“I'm going to kill you,” Van Ark says, pushing himself to his feet. His face is pitted and marked, like melted wax, one eye warped and distorted, almost demonic in appearance. “Long or slow but I will kill you.”

[Yeah, get out of there Three!] Sam says. [Just... you know, run!]

He does, like all the hounds of hell are after him.

Outside the compound is chaos, sounds of gunfire from close by, the groans of zombies everywhere. Must've got in. He had kind of destroyed a lot of the fences.

[New Canton cavalry's arrived,] Sam says. [Got a lift. Going well against the zombies.]

[Yes, but there's another group, probably still under Van Ark's override coming in from the right. They're being flanked and oh- do you see what I see?]

[Yeah. Is that what I think it is?]

“A private army?” Simon asks, sucking in a breath and willing himself to keep going. “We know he's got one of them.”

[No,] Sam says, sounding a little sick. [A plane.]

[And that's Van Ark hobbling towards it.]

Simon doesn't think he's run so fast in his life.

He heads towards the hangar, Sam's instructions in his ears. New Canton are still out there but they're being pinned down. They'll never make it in time. It's him, just him and the weight seems crippling.

[It's taxiing down the runway, Three!] Sam says. [You have to stop him! Damage the plane somehow. If he gets away he'll just... just start all over again.]

“There's got to be _something_ ,” Simon snarls, not slowing down, not stopping. If he stops then it's true and they'll never be safe. They'll never get another chance.

[No, there. Do you see that?]

“I don't see a bloody thing,” Simon says. “If you'd care to enlighten the class though...”

[Yes! Simon! That rise towards the woods, As high as you can. Quickly!]

He can hear the plane getting louder, sees it as it takes off. Keeps running. It's in the air when he crests the hill, low but rising. And then he sees it. “Oh wow Jenny, you get me the best presents.”

[Yes. A rocket launcher. It needs time to enact the sequence and we don't have much of that.]

Simon hoists it onto his shoulder, aiming it . It's not as easy as it is in the movies, even with automatic targeting and stuff. “C'mon. C'mon.”

[As soon as it's ready, Simon. We can't let him get away!]

“Hey Jenny,” he says impulsively, a moment of utter madness, the plane in the crosshairs. “Marry me.”

[W-what?]

“Marry me!” He doesn't know what's driving him to ask. It's just a bit of fun between them, that's all.

[Make the shot, Simon.]

“Yeah,” he says, voice hoarse. Here's to terrible Lauchlan aim not holding up for once.

He fires. For one hideous minute it seems like it's missed, just a fraction of a second off. But then the plane bursts into flame, plummeting to the ground to land in a pile of twisted metal and rubber.

There's a moment of silence. 

[Oh my god!] Sam shouts, almost loud enough to hurt Simon's ears. [You did it!]

“Oh Jesus,” Simon mutters, dropping the rocket launcher and falling to his knees, his legs suddenly gone weak. He can't even muster himself to complain about Sam's lack of faith in him.

[Runner Three,] Sam says, [well done. I- come on home.]

[Yes, come home Simon,] Janine says, her voice warm and fond. 

Simon swallows quickly, forcing down a swell of emotion that he just can't deal with right now. “I'll be there.”

\----------

It's not that simple of course. The zombies make it hard to slip away until New Canton cut a swathe through them. There's Van Ark's men to round up. God knows what they're gonna do with them. The noise has attracted a whole bunch of other zombies and these ones don't seem quite so keen to follow orders once they regain control of the tone devices.

They leave the plane to burn, armed guards staked out around it until it goes out on its own and they can pull out the charred and broken bodies. Let's see him regenerate from that.

Simon helps them to do a preliminary sweep of the buildings, clearing up stragglers and the occasional zom. They'll come back later, probably with Paula as a guide, to pick up the important stuff. It's just clean up now.

He pauses for a moment when the others go forward, in the doorway to the lab where he'd attacked Van Ark, another wave of exhaustion overtaking him. He should have just headed back to Abel but he hates leaving things feeling incomplete.

There's smashed glass on the floor, chemicals which stink, but there, in a large glass-fronted fridge is what he might have been looking for, albeit subconsciously. Racks of test tubes, some of them marked with the figure eight he'd seen on the one Van Ark had shown him. Well, isn't that creepy?

He tears his gaze away, looking around the room for notes, anything that might help Maxine, not that he has much idea of what would help. He's seen her notes, helped in the lab, but he is far from a scientist. There's a few papers that he shoves into the pocket of his jacket and then heads for the door.

He pauses there again, glancing back over his shoulder at the fridge, at what it contains. Immortality. He'd achieved it, mostly anyway. No more death, no slow withering of your body. No damnation, not if you can't die.

Simon brushes his hand against the glass and he reaches for the handle to pull it open, the cool hitting. He picks up one of the test tubes, turning it over in his hands. He could easily slide one into his pocket. No-one would miss it. Check out the notes and then... 

Salvation and it comes in a bottle.

All he has to do is set himself apart and watch everyone, his Jenny and Clover and Sam, crumble slowly to dust. All he has to do is live, while better people die. 

He can't forget the look on Sara's face. God forgives, if you want His forgiveness.

Putting the test tube back, turning up the heat setting as high as it'll go, that's the hardest thing that he's ever done. He rests his forehead against the front of the glass and watches it burn.

The road back to Abel seems very long.

Dusk is falling by the time he reaches the gates. All he wants to do is fall into his bunk and sleep for about a week. He could probably sleep through a zombie attack right now. There's a burn on his hand, from the acid he thinks, and it starts throbbing now that there's nothing more pressing taking up his attention.

A small group of people meets him when he arrives. He pauses when he sees them, the gate falling shut behind him. Janine's there, and Maxine and Paula, arms around each other like they'll never let go. Sam is there too, hanging back behind them, his hands shoves deep into his pockets and eyes downcast.

“Uh, didn't realise there'd be a welcoming committee.”

“There's a hot shower waiting for you whenever you're ready,” Janine says. “And hot food. All, of course, once you've had a medical check.”

It's all so normal, despite the redness of her eyes. Maybe because of that. It makes him smile anyway, tired and more damaged than yesterday, but he can still manage to smile. That's something.

“Alright, Jenny, “I'll submit myself to the good doctor... doctors?” he adds with a smirk, glancing over at Paula and Maxine. “Pretty sure I saw a movie like that once.”

“Simon!” Janine berates him, even though Maxine looks like she's holding back laughter.

“It's okay Janine,” Maxine says, matching his smirk with one of her own. “I'll make sure to use the really big needles on him.”

His head shoots up so that he can give her a look of near panic. “Oh, hey, no-one said owt about needles.”

“You'll survive,” Maxine says. “We wanted to say thank you too, Simon, me and Paula.”

“Yes,” Paula agrees. “For your help in stopping him and making this reunion possible. We are grateful.”

“I-” he begins and then stops, his throat feeling tight, thick with emotion. He's not a hero. “I think that was a line in the movie,” he says and giggles madly because soon he's gonna have to actually think about all of this, deal with it, the death and betrayal and weird exhilaration, but maybe irreverence can hold it off until no-one can see him break down.

Janine just gives him a disapproving look, but she's smiling too and when she slides her hand into his and squeezes it, he stares dumbly for a moment. Public displays of affection like this aren't something that they've ever done. Teasing is one thing but this has never been what their relationship is. 

After a moment he raises her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

“You did well, Simon,” Janine says. “You might just have helped to save the world.”

“Oh, don't say that Jenny. My ego's already too big,” Simon replies, giving her a lopsided smile.

“Yes, well, I'm sure that we'll survive,” she says dryly.

They set off towards the hospital and that's when Sam catches his eyes. He hasn't said anything, hasn't even looked at him really, beyond furtive glances.

“Just a minute,” he says, pulling reluctantly away from Janine and taking a step towards their radio operator. “Sam.”

Sam looks up at him, his arms curled defensively around himself. “Simon, I-” he begins, his voice cracking.

He could drag it out he supposes, make Sam grovel and beg for forgiveness, but he's too tired now, and they're all hurting and Sam had always been closest to Five.

“C'mere Sammy,” he says, holding out his arms and pulling Sam into a tight hug.

“I'm _sorry_ ,” Sam says, his voice muffled against Simon's shoulder. “I'm sorry I thought you were-”

“It's okay.” It's not and it _stings_ to know that he'd been doubted so deeply, but Sam looks so broke and what is making him feel worse going to achieve? In the grand scale of things, Sam is a far better person than Simon is. “It's okay.” Maybe it's just his imagination, but it feels like it gets easier to say it.

“I- I really... I really cared about Five, y'know?” Sam says weakly, pulling away to look up at him.

“Yeah, you weren't exactly subtle with your affections there, Sam,” Simon replies, ruffling his hair. “It makes you do stupid stuff.”

He glances over at Janine, remembering what he'd asked. She hadn't said yes. He's not sure what he would've done if she had. He's never seen himself as the commitment type honestly.

Then again, she hadn't said no either.

He heaves a sigh. Thoughts for later. “Right, let's get this over with. I'm starving although I might fall asleep in my dinner.”

“I've taken you off the roster for a few days,” Janine says. “You've earnt it.”

“Feeling generous are we, love?” he asks, testing the word on his tongue, or at least, the word as it applies to her.

Janine raises an eyebrow at him but doesn't comment as she takes his hand again.

\----------

“You never gave me an answer,” Simon says later that night, looking up at Janine as he nuzzles against her hip. He'd ended up too wired to sleep no matter how exhausted he'd been when he tried. Good thing Janine was willing to tire him out all over again.

“Hm?” she asks, her fingers running through his hair.

She remembers what he'd asked. She's just giving him an out if he wants it. He's silent for a moment, the words stuck on his tongue. 

“When I asked you to marry me,” he says quietly.

Her fingers still and she gives a soft sigh. Simon kind of feels like crawling into a hole somewhere. Janine looks down at him, her expression curious.

“Why did you ask?”

“Uh....” he gives her a blank look. “Same reason people usually ask, I guess.”

“You guess?” Janine says, raising an eyebrow and fixing him with a stern look. “Was it because you want to? Because of adrenaline? Because, god, forbid, you feel you have to make an honest woman of me after all we've done together?” she adds, a touch of amusement in her voice.

“No! God no,” Simon insists. He'd never even dream of that. “I just... I...”

She pulls him up and kisses him deeply, her fingers curled at the nape of his neck. “Give me time, Simon,” she says. “Give yourself time. At least until all of this is sorted. There is still rather a lot of work to do before it's over.”

“So that's a no then?” Simon says, forcing a smile and _Jesus_ , a spur of the moment question shouldn't make him ache this badly.

“It's a make sure you're certain about this, because I don't let go easily of things once I have them,” Janine says.

He swears that his heart stops beating for a minute, and he doesn't dare breathe in case it all falls apart. 

\---------

He waits for Janine in the farmhouse kitchen, shifting his weight anxiously from foot to foot. His new jeans and shirt, salvaged from a little boutique in town by Jody, would not really have been considered formal wear back before, but right now, they feel as stiff and starched as any of the suits he'd been forced into for church as a kid.

They're already starting up outside. He can hear them, Jack and Eugene blaring music across the courtyard, but that's a bit too public for this. 

Janine comes down the stairs and pauses when she sees him. Simon just stares for a moment, lips parted. She's gorgeous. She's wearing a simple black dress, and it shows off her toned arms and the strong lines of her shoulders. Her hair is down from it's usual tight ponytail and falls around her shoulders.

“God, Jenny,” he says, “you look beautiful.”

It's about the lamest thing he could say to her, not even half of what he sees in her and he should really just give up now, shouldn't he?

“Thank you,” she replies, smiling at him as she offers her hand. “You look rather fine yourself.”

Now or never and never hurts too much to think about.

His mouth is dry as ash and he kind of falls to his knees in the most inelegant way. It's supposed to be one knee, he's pretty sure but the other one just kind of gives out on him. It's Janine's turn to stare, and wow, has he actually managed to surprise her?

Maybe she thought he'd run, like he does from everything.

Maybe she _wanted_ him to run.

Oh god, he feels sick. 

“Pretty sure I'm supposed to have a fancy speech but... marry me, Jenny,” he says, looking up to her and hoping she can somehow tell all the things he wants to say. “The world is hell right now, but maybe I just... just need to ask for the things that make it better.”

It comes out all wrong he's sure, and he looks like a fool and the ring is still in his pocket, wrapped in tissue paper because zombies had interrupted his hasty perusal of a jewellers in town before he could grab a box. 

And it's Janine and she deserves so much better. She deserves a leader, a hero. Someone just as tough and focused as she is.

He's fumbling for the ring, more to give himself time to compose himself than out of any real hope, when she touches his cheek. She tilts his head up, and there's something soft and fond in her expression. 

“You're certain?” she asks solemnly.

“Pretty sure it's me supposed to ask that. I'm the one with the ring,” Simon points out and finally gets it out of the wrapping paper to show it to her.

“You're also the one who looks about ready to pass out,” Janine says looking far too amused.

“Yeah. I didn't think it through that well,” Simon says, laughing shortly. He meets her eyes squarely. “But I'm sure. I am. Might be the only thing I'm certain of.”

Even damnation doesn't seem quite that definite anymore. Not that he's complaining about that.

“Yes,” Janine says, and Simon stares dumbly for a moment, not quite realising what she's actually agreeing to until she slips the ring from his numb fingers and puts it on. It glitters there and it doesn't look real. 

“Oh,” he says, and lets her coax him up. “It's a yes then?”

“Yes,” Janine repeats. “I will marry you, for what that means in the world at the moment. Now, I rather believe that we have a celebration to attend?”

She holds out her hand for him again, and he can't stop staring at the ring on her finger, even when he takes it. Finally he can smile. “Yeah, we do.”


End file.
